


Magick and Mayhem

by TheGreyEyedGirl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Reader, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Except maybe my heart, F/M, Frigga (Marvel) Lives, Loki Feels, Loki Gets a Hug, Loki Needs a Hug, Magic, Potions, Protective Loki, Reader Insert, Slow Burn, The Avengers have trust issues, Witch!Reader, Witchcraft, protective Reader, reader is a witch, spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-12-07 16:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18237332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreyEyedGirl/pseuds/TheGreyEyedGirl
Summary: "Welcome to Y/N’s Sorcery Supply: the place to go for all your Spell-Stuffs, Enchanted Objects, and Magical Mixes"The Reader is a Midgardian witch, and owns her own magical supply store. However, when the Asgardian Sorcerer, Loki, walks in one day, little does she know that her life is about to change forever.





	1. A Loki walks into a store...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first work, so please be kind.  
> I have read several Loki/Reader fics recently in which she has magic, and I was inspired to write one of my own. I've been on this site for a while, but never had the courage to post anything until now... :)
> 
> <3, Grey

Glass bottles clinked softly together as you re-stocked and re-organized the shelves yet again. It was a relatively slow Tuesday afternoon, as usual. None of your regulars stopped by on Tuesdays, and you hadn’t had a new customer in ages. Every now and then you’d catch the eyes of intrigued window-shoppers, but that was the extent of today’s business, and that was alright. You made a point to never wish for excitement, anyways. It only ever caused trouble, and Stephen had a habit of bringing more than enough of it when he came in on Wednesdays.

 _Speaking of the good doctor_ , you thought to yourself, _I should brew him some more dreamless night elixir. He’ll be asking for it tomorrow._ And so, you set off into the back of the shop, dodging around the sturdy wooden edge of the apothecary’s table, gathering ingredients from jars and boxes as you went. Lifting the silver handle of your cauldron, you set the pot on the fire-plate, which you lit with a quick snap of the fingers.

“Alright,” You spoke to yourself aloud, “now let’s see if I can remember…” humming under your breath, you listed ingredients, “mothwing, lavender, valerian root, lemon balm, amethyst dust. Yes. That should just about do it…” Reaching into your sleeve, you pulled out your wand, muttering a nightmare-protectant incantation. With a flourish and a sharp flick of the wrist, the completed spell wafted, cloud-like, into the cauldron, making its contents shimmer silvery-blue.

A bell jingled from the front of the store. You turned towards the sound, noticing a man closely examining your potions stock. _That’s odd,_ you thought, _I wasn’t expecting anyone today._ Hurrying behind the front counter, you put on your best customer service smile and recited your usual customer greeting: “Welcome to Y/N’s Sorcery Supply: the place to go for all your Spell-Stuffs, Enchanted Objects, and Magical Mixes. My name is Y/N. What can I do for you today?”

Only then did you truly look at the man standing before you. He was tall, unnaturally so, with a lean build, porcelain complexion, and ebony hair. The most striking part of his appearance, however, were his eyes. When they met yours, you were reminded of a field of grass on a warm summer’s day, sparkling with mischief and undisclosed knowledge. “I happen to be looking for some mandrake root, miss Y/N, do you have any in stock?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment, then returned to your senses. “Hmm? Oh! Mandrake! Yes, I do stock mandrake root. It’s the sixth shelf back, in the section labeled “M”. Will you need any assistance in finding it, Mr. …?”

“Loki, and I do believe I will require your assistance, darling. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Loki? … As in, Loki of Asgard, Loki?!” You were in such a state of shock that you didn’t even hear his reply. Stephen had told you a few weeks ago that the god had been brought to Avengers’ Tower to atone for the New York incident, but you hadn’t expected to come across him in the vastness of the Big Apple, especially since your shop was halfway across the island from the tower. But nevertheless, here he was, standing right in front of you and waiting, with a bored expression plastered upon his face, for your surprise to lessen. _Right. Back to reality, Y/N_.

“I’m so sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, yes, darling, I am Loki of Asgard. Does that unsettle you? To have a monster in your midst?” He smirked, obviously expecting you to be frightened by his history.

“No.” judging by the slight twitch of his left brow, your reply was unexpected. “I was merely surprised to see you so far from the tower. I hadn’t expected you to turn up here, of all places, though I suppose I should’ve given that you’re a skilled sorcerer, and my shop is the only accredited magical supply store here in New York.” As you spoke, you moved from behind the counter, making your way towards the aforementioned shelf that held your supply of mandrake root. “Speaking of sorcery, I doubt you were allowed to bring along all of your spell books from home, and I have a rather extensive personal collection upstairs. It’s not quite on par with that of the Sanctum, which I’m sure you’ve seen by now, but I do have some texts that I’ve written myself, and I doubt that Strange would let the God of Mischief anywhere near his precious library. I could allow you access to them, if you like?” You turned around once the two of you had reached your destination, finding surprise plastered across his face. _I must have really shocked him_ , you thought to yourself, _he doesn’t seem like someone who openly shares their thoughts through facial expressions very often._

Loki shook his head slightly, and his features smoothed over once more into an unreadable mask. “Yes, actually, that would be wonderful. Thank you.” His voice was quieter, softer this time, and you could tell that he hadn’t expected your kindness.

Your face softened at his words, “Loki, I know it isn’t exactly my place to say this, but I can recognize the effects of mind manipulation from miles away, and that battle was plastered in high definition on every screen in New York. I know you weren’t in control of your actions, and even if you’re being mistakenly punished by the Avengers, it wouldn’t be right for me to judge you for the wrongdoings of another being, just because your body was the one to carry them out. Also, I’ve been to Asgard before, albeit a few hundred years ago, for a magic-wielders convention, and I remember your reputation as a good man, and an even better prince, through the stories of your people. You have no need to fear discrimination in this place. I simply won’t allow it.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but for a moment you saw tears welling up in his beautiful spring-green eyes. Then you blinked, and he was smiling instead, a genuine smile. “Finally, someone on this planet with an actual brain.”

You chuckled, turning back toward the shelf at hand, and reached upwards, moving onto the tips of your toes as you struggled to grasp for the group of jars labeled: “Mandragora Officinarum (Root)”. A pale hand with long, slim fingers reached past yours, easily retrieving one of the containers. You turned around, a word of thanks on the tip of your tongue, only to be met with the sight of emerald green fabric inches from your nose. You breathed in sharply. He smelled like evergreen trees, mint, and something else, something crisp, similar to freshly fallen snow. Your eyes drifted upwards by about a foot, and your eyes met his. All of a sudden you were drowning in green, barely noticing the warmth growing across your cheeks as the two of you simply stared into each other’s eyes. It was a feeling like no other: warm and soft and safe, your eyes fixed upon his, captured in the spell of his gaze.

“Tha-thank you.”

“You are most welcome, my dear.” He hadn’t moved an inch, still so close that you felt his breath upon your cheeks as he spoke. Your body leaned ever so slightly toward his, pulled by the gravity of his eyes. Then, the moment ended and he stepped back, the newly created space between you feeling more like a chasm.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain your grip on reality. “Do… do you need anything else, today, or will this be all?”

“I have to admit, I would love to see this library you speak so highly of.”


	2. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment if you have any questions, suggestions, or confessions. ;p
> 
> But seriously though, I could use some feedback...
> 
> Much love, ya' grl Grey

Your personal library was a beautiful place, filled to bursting with books of all types. Despite the vastness of the room in which your collection resided, it was incredibly cozy. Overstuffed couches and armchairs in various shapes and sizes were scattered throughout, some converging around a gigantic fireplace while others marked seemingly random breaks in the shelving, enveloped comfortably within unexpected nooks and crannies. Book wyrms, tiny serpent creatures with bat-like wings and brightly colored scales, flitted in an aerial dance between shelves, leaving colorful trails of light behind them as they went about their business. The shelves themselves were an anomaly as well, some holding physical portals rather than books, ethereal windows to various landscapes, organized alphabetically just like the books. Other shelves stored objects of all different kinds, their natures ranging from incredible to suspiciously ordinary.

As you stepped through the entrance to the library, you looked back to your guest and were delighted to see that he stood frozen in awe between the pair of tall oak doors, his jaw slightly slack and eyes wide in wonder. Then he smiled… well, more like grinned, wide and bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners in joy. It was the most beautiful expression you had ever seen on any living person.

The moment he caught sight of a book wyrm, however, his brow went up in surprise as he gave you a questioning look and asked, “What sort of creature is that? I dare say I have never seen anything quite like it.”

“That,” you replied, holding out a hand for the creature to land, “is a book wyrm. I keep them here to assist me in organizing the shelves and in finding certain things, almost like little librarians.” You stroked her scaly back with a single finger as she purred, rubbing her cheek on the thumb of your other hand. “They’re rather helpful little creatures, too, and can be very affectionate if you earn their favor. I was given a mated pair as a gift, about a century ago give or take a few years, from a friend of mine who happens to be a lady in the Seelie faerie court. You’d like her, I think. She’s very mischievous, that one.” You smiled softly, remembering her insistence that you take the two wyrms for your library as, in her words, ‘everyone must have a book wyrm for their library, for what would a collection of books be without one?!’

Loki gave a hum of acknowledgement, his lips quirking up at the corners, before wandering off to explore the shelves.

Before he could get too far, you called out to him, “I’ll be back later this evening. You’re free to stay or leave any time you wish, though. I just have to finish doing some stuff down in the shop, but I’ll return once I’ve closed up for the day, ok?”

He glanced in your direction, nodding once, and then disappeared behind the nearest shelf of books.

You sighed, wanting more than anything to join him, if only to watch his expressions as he discovered books he hadn’t read. Alas, you still had work to do. Preparing yourself mentally for three or more hours of labor, you turned to leave, but were stopped in your tracks by a strange chittering noise. Swiftly turning back around, you caught sight of the most adorable scene. Loki stood in front of a bookshelf with a huge leather-bound book in his hand as book wyrms surrounded him, three sat on his broad shoulders, one in his hair, and two more fluttered near the book. They were making high-pitched chattering noises, to which he responded in a soft voice, as if he could understand what they were trying to say, and then he laughed. It was a low, rumbling sound that filled you with warmth. _I might have to keep him_ , you thought, smiling to yourself as you exited the room.

You made your way down the spiral staircase, returning to the back room and to your previously-abandoned potion, which you were happy to see hadn’t boiled over in your absence. Pulling your wand from its place up your left sleeve, you twirled it in the direction of the nearest set of cabinets, out of which six slim-necked vials floated as if carried by a strong breeze. The vials made a single loop around the cauldron before dipping down and, one by one, bottling the potion. With another twist of your wrist, the bottles corked themselves and lined up, each waiting to be presented with a conjured label before floating diligently out to the main shop floor and coming to rest in perfect rows within their assigned shelf.

You sighed, flicked the end of your wand towards the stereo system, and moved to clear the worktable so you could begin the next batch of potions. Mindlessly going about your business, humming to the tune of a familiar song, you didn’t notice the figure lurking in the shadow of the staircase behind you, observing your every action with an intense curiosity.

As you danced about the room, potions ingredients bounced along in midair behind you, joining in a dance of their own before dropping into one of three cauldrons you had called forth from under the center counter. The air shimmered with the remnants of magick, creating a sort of misty haze that fell over the entire room. Your dancing and jubilant spellcasting went on for hours, only pausing when the storefront’s bell jingled its welcome to the occasional passerby. Still the figure watched on, cloaked in shadows and illusion, enjoying the joyful nature of your magick; it was something he had not experienced for himself in many millennia. With a soft expression, he stepped into the shadows’ embrace, disappearing from the room.

The end of the day heralded its arrival with the setting sun, throwing a blanket of soft pinks, oranges, and yellows over the cityscape of New York. You glanced toward the clock, which read 6:30. It was later than you had intended to be finished, but the visitation of unexpected customers and curious passerby had been the cause of that. Thinking of your house guest, you hurried through the typical closing routine: locking the front door and pulling the heavy velvet curtains across the windows, casting protective spells as you did so. As you quickly ascended the stairs, the thought crossed your mind that he might be hungry, and your stomach gurgled its own agreement. So, conjuring a tray, you summoned forth a multitude of different foods, not knowing what he might prefer, and continued on your way up, only slightly burdened by concentration on the tray floating behind you.

The library doors opened of their own volition, recognizing their master’s presence, and closed softly once you had traveled past their reach. Suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day set in, you sent the tray over to settle itself on a coffee table in front of the fireplace, which was surrounded by plush couches that called to you like sirens, promising comfort and the sweet solace of sleep. You shook yourself out of the stupor, focusing your thoughts on the man that was surely still in the room, albeit out of sight.

“Loki?” you called out as you searched sleepily among the shelves. “Are you still here?”

Warm breath suddenly brushed your ear, “Right here, darling.”

You jumped, letting out a squeak of surprise before turning around sharply. “Don’t do that!”

He only chuckled, the warm rumbling sound instantly making you forgive him. Only then did you notice the stack of books cradled gently in the crook of his left elbow. “You found something that peaked your interest, I see. Would you like to join me for dinner and discuss them?” you asked, nodding to the books.

“I would, actually,” he replied, seeming slightly surprised at the offer. You supposed he still wasn’t used to being treated kindly. _I’ll have to remedy that issue, for sure_ , you thought, clasping his free hand in yours as you pulled him towards the couches.

The two of you seated yourselves once you reached your destination (he much more gracefully than you), and you offered him the tray of food, summoning two plates and a tea set, then asked if he liked sugar in his tea. He preferred two spoonful’s, you learned, and his favorite fruit was apples, particularly the Golden Delicious ones, which happened to also be your favorites.

You talked for hours, discussing all sorts of topics: from your younger realm-traversing days, to his first impressions of Midgard, and the ways both of your mothers had reacted to your first signs of possessing the gift of magick or, in his case, seidr. The conversation was filled with laughter and kinship, leaving you with the realization that there had never been another person you had related to more deeply, and the immediacy of it all was a bit overwhelming. However, if several hundred years of life had taught you anything, it was to never look a gift horse in the mouth, so you took the connection at face value and appreciated it for what it was, not allowing yourself to drift off into an anxiety-fueled mental tangent, because that was never helpful in these sorts of situations.


	3. A Strange Occurrence

When you woke to a warm ray of sunshine right in your face, the second thing you noticed was how much firmer your pillow felt. Blinking away spots of color, you reoriented yourself, pulling the blanket further up your torso.

     Wait.

This wasn’t your bedroom.

You were in the library.

Had you fallen asleep while reading, again?

     No.

Flashes of memory finally registered in your brain: last night… tea… books… laughter… _Loki_.

 

Your pillow shifted, then made a low rumbling noise. Your “pillow” wasn’t a pillow.

    It was a Loki.

You shot up, turned, and immediately began apologizing. “Ohmygosh! I’msosorry! I can’t believe I fell asleep! I must have been more tired than I thought I was. I’m sorry I made you stay here all night!” you paused, realizing something, “But… why didn’t you just move me?”

 

“There is no need for an apology, darling.” He sat up behind you, his voice only slightly affected by sleep, and the soothing tone with which he spoke immediately assuaged your fears. “I must admit, I believe I fell asleep around the same time you did.”

 

You sighed in relief and stretched your arms languidly above your head, twisting slightly from side to side to hear the satisfying crackle and pop of your spine. “Oh. Alright. Did you sleep well, then?”

 

Although there wasn’t one on his face, you could hear the smile in his voice. “I did, actually, better than I have in quite some while.”

 

“Well, then I’m glad we both fell asleep like this, because I slept really well, too.” You smiled, turning in your seat so that you could face him while you talked. Briefly glancing out the nearest window, you could see that the sun had only just risen, which meant that you still had plenty of time to spend with your guest before opening the shop. “What would you like for breakfast? I can whip up just about anything, but if you have any preferences please let me know now. I’d hate to prepare something you didn’t enjoy.”

 

“My lady, I am sure anything you make will be wonderful.”

 

You blushed at the praise and giggled, reaching out to lightly push at his shoulder. “Charmer.”

 

A mischievous smirk spread across his face. “They do not call me silver-tongued without reason, Miss Y/N.”

 

Your laughter echoed in the domed ceiling of the library, harmonizing with his low chuckle as you both stood. Linking your arm in his, you led him through the doors of the library, up another flight of spiral stairs, and into your kitchen.

 

Both of you continued to joke and flirt while you made breakfast and he leaned against the adjacent counter space, waiting for you to ask him to fetch the next ingredient or kitchen appliance from one of the cabinets. It was a comfortable moment, filled with all the warmth and familiarity of domesticity, but of course it had to come to an end eventually. Casually glancing at the clock as you ate, you did a double take, confused to see that it was much later in the morning than you had previously assumed. You know what they say; time flies when you’re having fun. You finished eating and rushed toward your room to change into your work clothes, calling back to Loki that you would clean up later, and he could just leave the dishes in the sink.

 

Returning to the kitchen, you were struck by how clean it was. Even the sink itself sparkled. Loki had cleaned it all up by himself. Probably with magic, of course, but you were still touched by the gesture. The man in question lounged casually on your couch, nose hidden between the pages of a book (Shakespeare, by the look of the cover). “Loki, I have to go open the shop, but you can stay here if you want. I’ll be up again for lunch.” As you spoke you pulled on a pair of flats with one hand, the other struggling with the back tie of your work apron.

 

A pair of gentle hands brushed yours away from your lower back, taking up the ties and coaxing them into a bow with ease. “Thank you” your voice was quieter, morning rush all but forgotten as you turned and were immediately captured in his gaze once more.

 

“You’re very welcome”

 

Before you could become completely and utterly lost in those gorgeous eyes of his, the store bell jingled downstairs, making your brow furrow in confusion and concern.

You hadn’t unlocked the door yet.

 

Loki insisted on going first, knife clutched in one fist as he held the other arm protectively in front of you. You sighed in resignation and followed him, but not before rolling your eyes. _Overprotective Alpha-Males._

 

“Y/N?”

 

A familiar voice called out to you from downstairs, making you release the tension in your shoulders and push past Loki, who had dropped his guard to glance questioningly back at you. Ignoring his protests, you made your way confidently into the main room of the shop, resting your hands on your hips and looking in exasperation at the new man who stood before you. “Strange, what have I told you, almost a hundred times by now, mind you, about entering the store before I’m officially open?”

 

The sorcerer had the intelligence to look sheepish, staring down at his feet like a chastised child. This reaction only lasted a moment, though, before he suddenly pushed you behind him, hands out and surrounded by a bright golden disk of defensive magic. “What’re _you_ doing here?” He growled at Loki, who now leaned in the doorway to the back room, arms crossed over his chest with a bemused expression on his handsome face.

 

You harrumphed, using your own magic to overpower Strange’s “impenetrable” spell-circle, and moved between the two men. “ _He_ is my guest, Stephen, and I expect you to treat him as such, do you understand? Loki is under my protection here, and you have no right to put up arms against whomever I choose to allow inside my home. You know better than anyone that if he wasn’t welcome, he wouldn’t be here.” Your voice was stern as you shook a scolding finger in the doctor’s direction, your other hand on your hip.

 

Stephen Strange scowled over the top of your head, and was met with a playful wink from Loki, who wiggled his fingers in a mocking wave. Sparks flew from the doctor’s clenched fists, his brow lowering even further in obvious dislike of your house guest.

 

“Stephen.” There was an unspoken warning in your tone, one the good doctor knew not to ignore, and he met your eyes once more.

 

“I can’t promise anything.”

 

“I won’t bother to pretend I understand your dislike for my guest, but I do expect you to be polite while you continue to be under my roof, yes?” You quirked an eyebrow, your expression clearly leaving no room for further argument.

 

“Yes Ma’am.” He sent a final suspicious glare in Loki’s direction before resuming his usual demeanor. “I’m sure you already know what I’ve dropped in for?” Though the phrase was presented as a question, you knew it was more of a statement.

 

“I do. I made sure to brew a new batch of it yesterday, specifically for this reason.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

You flicked your wand and sent off a little cloud of magic to retrieve the potion bottles. Tense silence filled the room until the cloud returned with six bottles, labeled “dreamless sleep elixir”. The cloud drifted towards Strange, who waved the bottles into the satchel at his side, and he handed you a small pouch which, judging from the clinking sound it made, was filled with coins.

 

“Happy to do business with you.” His monotone reflected the discomfort of the moment as he walked towards the door, opened it, and stepped through directly into a portal.

 

The tension released with a sigh once he was gone, and you turned to Loki, who gazed off into an unseen distance, deep in thought. His lips were tilted ever so slightly downwards, and you were saddened to see his previously jovial mood disappear so quickly.

 

Then, you had a thought. “You know what, I think I might take the day off. Would you care to join me, Loki?” Your words brought him out of his obvious internal dialogue.

 

“Hmm?” His eyes were questioning.

 

“I’ve decided to take the rest of the day off. I asked if you would like to join me.”

 

His eyes were soft as he formulated his response. “I think I would.”

 

Your heart nearly broke at the vulnerability in his gaze, at the magnitude of openness and honesty he offered you simply through his eyes. He was clearly awaiting rejection, or perhaps for you to suddenly laugh at him, for you to make his desire for companionship the butt of a joke. At this realization, you felt the sudden urge to wrap your arms around this beautiful man, if only to offer him some form of comfort and reassurance.

 

You hadn’t realized that you followed through with this desire until he stiffened slightly in your embrace, pausing in confusion for several seconds before wrapping his arms around you in return, pulling you closer. You turned your face into the crook of his neck, only for him to lay his cheek against the top of your head. Something wet landed on your cheek. Tightening your hold, you whispered against his skin, “You will always be welcome here, no matter what.”

 

He squeezed you back in response, the library couch suddenly supporting you both. He had teleported the both of you upstairs. He sat sideways, you still cradled against his chest. His legs stretched out across the cushions, shoulders leaning against the armrest, and you settled more comfortably in his arms, enjoying his closeness, wanting to appreciate this for as long as it lasted.


	4. Avenging a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super Quick Summary: Bonds are formed, Loki is a cutie, Reader is a BAMF, and Sassy Reader is Sassy.  
> So, with that covered...
> 
> Onward to adventure!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness!!! *squeaks in delight* I can't believe I already have ao many comments, and kudos, and the hits! *nearly faints*  
> Anyways, I struggled with inspiration for this chapter, but I hope it's what you all wanted!

     After he left that evening, Loki continued to visit your shop nearly every day over the course of several weeks. Some days he would spend hours in your library, and others he would pop in for only a few minutes. No matter how long he stayed, you always enjoyed his visits; each one was a bright spot of happiness that broke the dull monotony of everyday life.

     He visited so often, in fact, that you grew understandably worried when he left one day and didn’t return for at least a week and a half. On the 10th day of Loki’s disappearance from your life, you decided to start looking for him. Perhaps he was sick?

No. Neither Asgardians nor Jotuns were affected by Midgardian diseases.

Maybe he had gone to visit his mother?

That couldn’t be it, either. If he was going back to Asgard he would have let you know.

There were only two more possible situations, but neither you wanted to consider:

Either the Avengers had locked him up again, or some other power was keeping him from visiting you. This possibility only served to increase your worry.

     Turning to your magic (as you usually did in times of panic), you cast a search spell on your scrying orb, hoping to find some clue as to his basic whereabouts. The spell worked, and you were relieved to learn that he was still in New York. That narrowed it down, at least, and your fears were confirmed by a second, more precise, locator spell. Loki was in Avengers Tower.

 

\--

 

     Stepping off your broom and onto Stark’s personal landing pad, you walked to the glass doors and knocked, startling several of the tower’s inhabitants, who had been lounging on the living room couches, all doing various down-time activities. All eyes were now on you as Tony Stark himself stood to greet you, opening the large double doors.

      “Who the hell are you?”

      “Y/N. I have reason to believe that you have wrongly imprisoned my friend, and, consequently, I am here to retrieve them.”

      “Again, who the hell are you, and how the hell did you get within ten feet of my tower without me knowing about it?”

     “I flew.” The additional “ _No duh”_ was implied via deadpan expression. Stark was supposed to be more intelligent than this. _Honestly. One would think he could grasp basic concepts like this, especially considering the type of people he works with on a regular basis._

     “What?” The billionaire before you looked more confused than ever.

     “I. flew. On my broom.” You held up the broomstick, gesturing to it with your free hand, over enunciating each syllable as if you were speaking to someone hard of hearing. Honestly, if _all_ of Avengers were going to be as dense as Stark, this “rescue mission” may take longer than you had originally expected.

     “Alright.” His expression had shifted drastically in a matter of seconds. “I’ll admit we’ve all seen stranger. I’m guessing you’re not hostile, ‘cause you haven’t attacked me yet so…” He opened the door wider, stepped aside, and swept his other arm to the side in an overly elaborate gesture of welcome.

     You stepped inside and he shut the door behind you, returning to his place on the couch, sandwiched between one very confused Steve Rogers and one Natalia Romanova, currently known as Natasha Romanoff, who was giving off an incredibly hostile aura.

Just as the awkward lull in action was becoming uncomfortable, the elevator dinged, causing every person in the room to almost jump out of their skin. (Everyone except Natasha, that is, who seemed to have been expecting the sound.)

     “Y/N?” A very familiar face revealed itself from between the elevator doors. Dr. Strange was understandably confused to have his two worlds suddenly collide in such a casual manner. “What are you doing here?”

     You opened your mouth to answer, but were cut off by an increasingly flustered Tony Stark.

     “Wait. I think I’m missing something important here. You two _know_ each other?” you could almost literally see the gears turning in Stark’s head as he struggled to put the pieces together.

     “Yes.” Stephen turned to the group, laying a friendly, protective hand on your shoulder. “Y/N here is my main source of magical supplies and advanced technique recommendations. She’s one of the most talented witches in known existence.” You rolled your eyes. It was almost as if he were your doting father bragging about you to his collogues at work.

     “A witch?” Wanda Maximoff spoke up from her armchair, face hopeful at the prospect of yet another magically-skilled acquaintance.

     “Yes. I am a witch. Or, perhaps the more accurate title would be sorceress. That is, if you prefer the more technical term. I’m usually fine with either, though, as they both represent my possession and usage of magick.” Your customer service smile subconsciously snuck itself you’re your face. Unbeknownst to you, this friendly expression was slowly but surely soothing the initial wariness of several Avengers. “To answer your question, Mr. Stark, Stephen and I go way back. At least, that’s what it feels like. In all honesty, we’ve probably only known each other for a few years. You see, when this “sorcerer supreme” was first learning about magick, I happened to be his instructor in potions, as well as the more magical side of healing. I was told that Devonna recommended me personally, though you may have known her as The Ancient One?” You glanced questioningly towards Stephen, who nodded for you to continue, so you did. “And I know what you’re all thinking: “She’s much too young to be _teaching_!” Well, in terms of other beings with magick, I am a bit on the younger side, but I do have at _least_ three hundred more years of experience than Strange, so…” You shrugged and waited for the usual resulting outburst of disbelief.

     “Wow.” Tony was, unsurprisingly, the first to speak. “Ok. So… Sabrina here kinda’ has you beat, huh, Doc?” Stephen huffed indignantly, but gave a curt nod of admission as you snickered quietly in the background, liking your new nickname despite Stark’s obvious intent to figure out how to push your buttons.

     “So!” Stark clapped his hands together, signaling the end of that discussion. “I believe Little Miss Magic over here said something about us imprisoning her buddy? Now that we know for sure you’re a friendly, what’s that all about?” Then he looked up and spoke into seemingly thin air, “JARVIS, how many people have we imprisoned lately? Is there anyone I’ve forgotten?” Back to you: “I can only think of one guy, and it can’t be him you’re talking about. You’re too cute to be friends with Reindeer Games…” He trailed off, most likely wondering who else he had stashed in his tower, but could think of no one, judging by his still-perplexed facial expression and the way he rubbed his goatee thoughtfully.

_Reindeer games? This guy sure has some odd names for people. I wonder who got stuck with that one? Surely not Loki…_

“Well, I think the situation would be better explained with said friend being present” _Back to business, Y/N. You have a Loki to save._ “If I may, would someone take me to the containment area this tower undoubtedly possesses?”

     Steve Rogers stood, to your pleasant surprise, brushing nonexistent dirt from his thighs. “Of course, miss. We only have one prisoner currently, but I’ll be glad to take you down to his cell so you can personally confirm that your friend isn’t here. If you’ll follow me, right this way…”

\--

     The elevator ride was getting awkward, to say the least. It was obvious that America’s golden boy wanted to ask a billion questions, but was holding back (however tactlessly) due to some idea he probably had about the appropriateness of asking women potentially sensitive questions.

     “You can ask, you know.”

You thought his brows might jump straight off his face from how high they shot at your sudden statement. Then, he blushed a becoming shade of rose and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

     “That obvious, huh?”

     “ _Oh_ yeah.” Your answer paired with a playful smirk.

     “Well, since I have your permission, did you always have magic? And, since you probably know my past, had acclimating to different periods been difficult? Do ya’ have any tips?”

     You laughed at his excitement. This man was almost too much like a golden retriever puppy; you had the sudden urge to pat him on the head and throw him a stick. “First off, yes. I was born with magick as far as I know, or at least have possessed the ability for as long as I can remember. Second, not really. Although, my situation is a tad different from yours seeing as I’ve been awake for the entirety of it, so the societal shift over time isn’t anywhere near as sudden as what you experienced. And finally, yes. I highly recommend maintaining an open mind. Try to disregard as much of what you learned in the past as just that, the past, and instead learn to embrace changes in society as they come. At least, that’s what I’ve done, and I like to think that my technique has been pretty successful.” You winked playfully in his direction, earning a chuckle in response.

     He opened his mouth to reply verbally, but before he could, the elevator made its mechanical presence known once again with a ding and the soft whoosh of opening doors. Ever the gentleman, Steve stepped aside and allowed you to exit first before following closely behind.

     “The containment cells are just down this hallway,” he explained as the two of you walked. “We’ve kept all sorts of villains here over the years, but it’s usually only for a short period of time before the SHIELD helicarrier can pick them up and transport them to a more secure area. It’s not exactly safe to hold the world’s most dangerous criminals right smack in the middle of New York, you know?” He laughed at his own joke, but you only gave an amused half-smile.

     Finally, you stopped in front of a large metal door. Steve typed an excessively elaborate code into a nearby touchscreen, which then disappeared into the wall when the door finally clicked open, swinging inward with an ominous burst of cool air.

     You entered the room first, running directly toward the large glass cell in the middle of the room, despite much protest from Steve.

     “Loki! What have they _done_ to you?” Your friend lifted his head lethargically at the sound of your voice, and you saw then the muzzle they had fastened around his gorgeous face. Sad green eyes gazed into yours, obviously awaiting a negative reaction, but directly opposite to what he expected, you turned on _Steve_.

     “How _dare you!_ You all pretend to be so high and mighty while an innocent man suffers in your dungeons. Release him, immediately!”

“I-I’m sorry miss but I have orders to...”

You cut him off. “I don’t give a _damn_ about your orders, Captain. You will release him _immediately._ And I suggest you lift the magical warding over this room in the process, unless you truly wish to anger the woman who singlehandedly annihilated a _thousand_ dark elven warriors in a matter of _minutes_.” Your voice dripped with eerily calm, but deadly venom, blood at the boiling point.

Steve blanched, scurried to the nearest control panel, and hurriedly typed in another code. The door to Loki’s cell whooshed open at the same time the magic-dampener clicked off, and you were by the young prince’s side within seconds, his shackles gone, arms wrapped around each other so tightly you couldn’t think of anything else, and didn’t want to.

     “Are you alright?” your voice was a hoarse whisper.

    “I am now, love.”


	5. Discussions are Had, Decisions are Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Friends!  
>  I am sorry this chapter took so long to write, and is so much shorter than her sisters. I had a significant dip in my mental health, and my muse left me halfway through writing it. I eventually decided to chop the thing in half, so that I would at least have something to post this week.  
>  If you have any ideas or requests for the future plot, please let me know!
> 
> Much Love,  
> <3 Grey

     When you released him from your embrace, Loki glanced warily at the Captain. “You needn’t worry about him, Lo. They won’t lock you up again. Not on my watch.”

     He nodded.

“Now, please drop your illusions so I can see your injuries.”

     Loki sighed, defeated, and his form shimmered green, revealing multiple cuts and bruises across his face. You reached into a dimensional pocket and retrieved a healing salve, unscrewing the lid and gently daubing it across his wounds. After assuring he was alright, you turned to Steve, who had remained colorless as he watched you tenderly care for a man he believed wholeheartedly to be a psychotic killer.

     “I owe you an apology for frightening you, Captain, and I do apologize, but I’d like you to consider how you might react if your friend The Winter Soldier were in a similar position.”

     Steve’s expression softened in understanding, and you knew he would cause you no more trouble about Loki. Speaking of said sorcerer, you realized you still had a bone to pick with the rest of the Avengers. And so, you wrapped an arm around Loki’s and led him to the elevator, gesturing with your head for the Captain to follow.

\--

     When you stepped out of the elevator with Loki by your side and the Captain following closely after, the other Avengers immediately went into defense mode. Hidden knives were unsheathed, guns were cocked, and blasters charged. Luckily, Steve had the sense to step in front of you two, hands raised in a placating gesture. “Lower your weapons. I think there’s been a misunderstanding, here.” His voice was stern and commanding, yet also soothing at the same time. The heroes’ reluctance to stand down was obvious, but under Cap’s insisting stare, weapons were slowly lowered, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

     “Right.” Cap’s tone was decisive. “Now that we’re not at each other’s throats, I think we need to hear what Miss Y/N has to say before we make any final judgements.”

     “Thank you, Captain.” You stepped forward, confidence increasing under Steve’s support. “I am assuming that Loki has been imprisoned due, at least in part, to his actions on September 11th. First of all, I respect your caution in handling a supposed terrorist whose actions destroyed half the city, but I believe there is some very important information that you all are unaware of. I’m not sure if you noticed, but all images of Loki, from the day of the attack until just before his altercation with the hulk, showed his eyes as being bright blue like Thor’s, yes?” Several Avengers nodded in response, expressions wary and questioning.  “But look at his eyes right now. They’re green, see?”

     “Look Sabrina, we get that you like Reindeer Games’ eyes, but can you please get to the point?” Tony’s tone was cocky, and you responded accordingly… with sass.

     “Well, Stark, I _would_ get to the point if _someone_ would let me speak without interrupting.” You arched a challenging brow in his direction, and his comeback was shut up by an elbow to the ribs from Natasha. “Thank you. As I was saying, his eyes were blue, but now they’re green. Do we know of anyone _else_ whose eyes turned bright blue that day?” You looked pointedly at Clint, whose eyes widened in realization before glancing towards Loki. “So… you’re saying that he was being controlled by the staff, too?”

     You smiled in the archer’s direction. “Well done, Agent Barton. That is indeed what I am saying.”

     “Wait,” Tony dodged another jab from Nat’s elbow. “That doesn’t explain why he’s been so hostile _now_ , though. How do we know he was _really_ being controlled?”

     “Tell me honestly, Mr. Stark, would you be open to social interaction directly after being tortured and then forced to act in ways you never would have otherwise? Loki is obviously suffering from PTSD, and none of you have noticed, or maybe you just didn’t care enough to listen when he tried to tell you the whole story. Nevertheless, he doesn’t deserve to be punished for the crimes of another being, even if those crimes were performed unwillingly through his body.”

     Steve was nodding, clearly thinking of Bucky, and you saw Clint’s head twitch in agreement before he stood to speak to the group; “She makes a good point. What’s more, her evidence is clear and factual. You all know how I feel about second chances. A lot of us were given a second chance through the Avengers initiative, one we might not have gotten otherwise, and my vote is that we allow Loki one as well. I’m the least likely person to forgive him for what he did during the attack on New York, but if he was being controlled like you say, we can’t hold him accountable for that, just as Nat, Professor Selig, Bucky, and I weren’t punished for our wrongdoings while under outside mental influence. It wouldn’t be fair.” Clint sat back down, finalizing his statement, and you grinned at one other.

     Tony spoke again: “You know I’m all for second chances, Legolas, but aren’t we under direct orders from Odin and Fury to keep him in his crate whenever Thor isn’t on Earth? I mean, we did lengthen his leash until Thor had to handle some problem on Asgard.  No offense, Sabrina, but I think we should wait for Sparklers to get back before we make any decisions regarding his stab-happy baby brother.”

     Loki turned to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Darling, however much I dislike being caged in that infernal fishbowl, I would never wish the wrath of my fa-  of Odin to turn upon you. Just this once, I’m afraid the man of iron has a point. Perhaps we should simply wait for my brother to return to Midgard.” You started to protest, but were silenced by a gentle squeeze of his hand on your shoulder. His eyes smiled down at you as he continued; “Then, if the All-Father permits it, you and I may be able to appeal to the royal courts for a lesser sentence. I had no support other than my mother in the last trial, and her word was not taken seriously as she was not present on Midgard when my crimes were committed, and, being my mother, the court ruled that she was undoubtedly biased in my favor.” His expression grew soft at the thought of his mother.

     His acceptance of the situation soothed your anger at the injustice of it all, but you had to make sure. “You’re sure you don’t want fight this, Lo? You know all you have to do is say the word and we’re out of here.”

     “I would much rather wait for the mere possibility of freedom than spend the rest of my life as a fugitive.” Loki’s blatantly honest response endeared you to him further (if that was even possible at this point).

     “Alright. I understand that this is your choice to make, but I don’t think that it’s really necessary for you to go back to that cell.” You turned to Tony, who looked relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with any consequences resulting from an uncooperative Loki. “Mr. Stark, would it be possible for Loki to simply be placed in some sort of contained guest room? I would offer up my own home as a place of temporary confinement, but I have a feeling that Loki’s presence within this tower was a very specific part of this agreement between Fury and the All-Father.”

     He smiled at you, “I’ll see what I can do, hon. Should I have JARVIS whip something up for you, too?”

     Baffled by his kindness, you replied in a grateful tone, “If it’s not too much trouble, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

     “Call me Tony, sweetheart, Mr. Stark was my old man.”


End file.
